


The Trollshaws Debacle

by Sargerogue



Series: The Line of Wanderers [7]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Everyone insisted on having their say, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 22:43:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15520278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sargerogue/pseuds/Sargerogue
Summary: Different points of view concerning the Trollshaws incident. Companion piece to Chapter 4 of Of Separate Parties.





	1. Kíli

**Author's Note:**

> The normal disclaimer goes here.   
> Khuzdul translated at the end chapters.

Admittedly, perhaps sending their very green burglar in to rescue the ponies while Fíli ran for help was a bad idea. Kíli reasoned that everything would be fine as long as he watched Bilbo’s back and stepped in if need be. He knew his uncle was having difficulties accepting the hobbit and thought a chance for Bilbo to prove himself would smooth it over.

So, when he saw the troll turn around and spot Bilbo, he was ready to pull his sword and order Bilbo to run. Only, a woman beat him to it.

He heard the familiar twang of an arrow letting loose as Bilbo chased after the horses. Kíli snagged them by their bridles and handed the lines to Bilbo with strict orders to get the hell away from the clearing. By the time he had managed to get Bilbo away, the pot from over the fire was being hurled at the trees. He barely had time to get to cover before the boiling hot water flew past. He hurried through the hot ground toward the trees nearest where he heard the other archer fall.

Mahal’s beard, it was Bilbo’s cousin! The one his brother was pining after! She certainly didn’t look like a hobbit now, dressed in dwarfish clothes and armed as such, though lightly and prepared for scouting instead of fighting.

The troll tried to pick her up and the scream sent his hairs on end. He pulled out his sword and readied himself to charge if they went for her again, the troll having dropped her after the shout.

“What’s it crying about?” the troll asked.

Freye tossed her head back and clenched her teeth against the pain. They locked eyes in the darkness and he saw hers go wide in genuine panic. She shook her head and said, “No, don’t. Not for me.”

And suffer Fíli killing him later for not defending his One? Kíli didn’t think so and showed that by shaking his head.

“Got a branch in its leg,” a troll remarked. It snapped the tree above Freye, freeing her from under it and exposing the bloody branch sticking out of her thigh. “Looks tasty.” The troll reached for her but Kíli had had enough. He drove his sword into the hand of the troll and stood between Freye and the retreating troll.

“You’ll not touch her!”

“You what?”

“I said,” Kíli growled and spun his sword in one hand in an effort to spook them by way of showing off, “you’ll not touch her.” He heard Freye move behind him and the sound of a shaft sliding across a bow.

“Get him!”

The arrow released and struck the troll in the eye. While the troll wildly swung at them, Thorin arrived with the rest of the dwarrows following. He spun around and looped his arms under Freye’s armpits and pulled her back to a tree where she was partially hidden and would have sight of the battle.

“Cover us,” he said. And don’t die, he thought morbidly.

He could hear the arrows pass by their heads to strike the trolls. He went after the troll that had tried to pick her up. The troll kicked Kíli across the clearing and the young dwarf shouted in pain.

“Freye!” His brother’s worried cry caught his attention. Fíli was beside him, helping him up, and the others had regrouped there as well. He looked up to see Freye pulled taunt by the trolls.

“Lay down your arms or we’ll rip hers off.”

How in the name of the Maker were they getting out of this one? Where was Gandalf when you needed him?

“I’m not worth it,” Freye shouted. Her eyes were on Thorin and Fíli, the two he knew would make the decision. “Please, do not do it.” Why wouldn’t we, Kíli wanted to ask. She might not be part of the Company but the way Fíli looked at her was enough to warrant a fight against the trolls to save her. The troll pulled her tighter and the branch shifted in her leg. Kíli was going to lose his hastily eaten dinner.

Thorin threw down his sword and Fíli joined him in the action. Kíli did the same and glanced at the others as they slowly did. Ori seemed the most put out by it, throwing his slingshot down with enough force it should have broken.

Being stripped to his smallclothes and tied up was probably the most humiliating thing Kíli had ever suffered. Watching his brother cry out in worry for his One was the worst pain he had every experienced. His brother’s cries tore through him. Kíli wondered if he could squirm over to Fíli and get one of his hidden knives loose but Fíli’s relocation to lying beside Freye ruled that out.

Thank Mahal! Bilbo arrived just in time to save them from worse fates. Kíli didn’t want to be turned into jelly. Of course, the tale that Bilbo spun was a little out there in Kíli’s opinion. How would they have been docile for the hobbit all this time if they were being led to slaughter? And the mentioning of breeding had him flinching. No thanks, no children any time soon for him thank you.

Gandalf’s arrival was unexpected by Kíli was thankful for it. Bilbo hurried to deal with the fire and then cut his cousin loose and Fíli after. His brother’s calls for the Company medic sent cold chills down his spine. The moment Kíli was free, he hurried to grab his clothes and Fíli’s own before dashing to his brother’s side. He dropped his brother’s things to the side and took the knife Óin offered him to heat. Finding a flame in the fire was harder than he thought but there was one. Gandalf stepped over and the flame picked up heat until Kíli nodded and hurried back.

“Count of three lass,” Óin warned her.

More like one, Kíli muttered and hurried to push himself between Óin and Fíli. He feared his grip would leave bruises on her hips as he held her firm. Nori yelped as he was kicked in the gut but held firm.

Kíli barely heard the order to get the herbs for Óin. He saw to it that his brother had Freye picked up properly before running off. The missing ponies were tied by the others and Kíli hurried to the saddlebags on a stump beside where Óin’s pony was tied. He was luck that Óin kept herbs and medicinal supplies in one side and was quick to gather them.

There was a new dwarf waiting for him at the campsite when he returned. She was helping Bilbo and Fíli get Freye comfortable when she spotted him. She called him over and took to mixing the salves for Óin. The other healer did not seem to object to that when he arrived and they worked in tandem to treat the younger woman.

Kíli plopped down beside his brother and Freye. He heard Thorin sit down beside him as well. Kíli patted his brother on the back reassuringly and helped support his brother in his rather uncomfortable task of dwarf-chair.

When Balin called out the elder dwarrowdam’s name, Kíli couldn’t help but stare. It took him a few minutes to make the connection to the dwarrowndam that would visit his mother and always had a strange toy of some sort to pass off to him. He then looked at Freye and noticed how her ears were not as pointed as Bilbo’s and the braids in her hair. She wore the braid of a master smith and a coming of age bead.

His brother was in love with a dwarrowdam with hobbit heritage.

Oh, his mother was going to lose her mind when she learned Brynye’s granddaughter was Fíli’s paramour.


	2. Thorin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin's thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so long. I wasn't sure how to summarize Thorin and Freye's talk at the end and I wanted him to have comments while that conversation went.

Thorin was **never** letting his nephews be together on watch again without supervision. To lose four ponies and put their burglar in danger? He had half a mind to send them back to their mother and convince them to take the hobbit along with them. Maybe this entire quest was a folly after all.

Attacking the trolls was their only option when Thorin spotted Kíli defending someone else on the ground. He didn’t hesitate to run into the clearing. His heart lodged in his throat as he thought about the one person it could be, probably was.

Brynye was going to skin him and mount his pelt on her wall.

He had hurried toward Kíli’s side when he heard the lad yelp, Fíli beside him and helping him up.

“Freye!” Fíli shout brought his attention to the lass firmly grasped by two trolls.

“Lay down your arms or we’ll rip hers off!”

No. No, this could not be happening. Why hadn’t he just sent Nori after her? He was sure she would follow. He should have just had Nori sneak back to her camp and welcome her to the Company. Mahal’s beard he was going to lose her.

“I’m not worth it,” Freye insisted. She met Thorin’s eyes and Fíli’s in turn. She concentrated on Thorin. While pained, she didn’t seem afraid. She seemed to have accepted her fate. They said the line of Durin was cursed with misfortune, he feared the Dwarfish Tooks were similarly cursed. He couldn’t leave Brynye alone in the world. He then surrendered, there was still Bilbo who could find Gandalf and rescue them. He would have to put his faith in the hobbit. Freye must have seen something in his eyes. “Please, do not do it.”

The trolls pulled tighter and Thorin cast his sword down. He heard Fíli and Kíli follow a moment later.

He wished, as he sat in his sack trying to think of a way out of this, that Fíli had more control. He could see the worry in his nephew’s eyes, how he pressed down on Freye’s leg in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. Why hadn’t he listened to the wizard?

“Wait! Wait! You’re making a terrible mistake.” Mahal and Yavanna bless Bilbo Baggins. The hobbit surveyed the lot and looked at the trolls. “About the seasoning.” What was the hobbit doing?

He was stalling, Thorin realized. The comment about sunup made sense now. If Bilbo could stall until the sun rose, the trolls would turn to stone. He just had to convince the trolls not to do anything rash.

Just as Bilbo had worked the trolls into a right panic, Gandalf arrived and cracked a low stone that blocked the sun.

Bilbo started toward Thorin, his knife coming out from his waistband, but Thorin shook his head and nodded toward Freye. “Help your cousin. She’s injured.” Bilbo nodded and hurried to her side. “Dwalin!” he called out as the larger dwarf was cut loose by Gandalf. “Cut us loose!”

It took a few precious minutes to get them all loose. Dwalin, wisely, started with Óin who hurried to Freye. Kíli was next followed by Thorin.

Óin’s call for people to hold the pained dwarrowdam caught his ears. He headed toward them. “Nori grab her legs. Bofur, give him a hand. Fíli,” he said looking to his nephew as he knelt across from him, “you and I will hold her torso.” Fíli gave a small nod and handed him a knife sheath when he asked for something that Freye could bite into. Freye’s attentions were more on Fíli at the moment and for once Thorin was glad for it.

Óin gave them little time to prepare and they held down the struggling dwarrowdam as she fought against their hold. It was better when they had finished. Thorin patted her shoulder reassuringly.

After he had gathered Fíli’s things, he followed the group back to the campsite. He arrived just in time to hear Brynye Took say, “First one always hurts the worst, dear.”

“I believe you stole that line from Master Fundin,” Thorin said before he could stop himself. “Brynye.”

“Thorin.”

He wouldn’t say that he wasn’t glad to see her. He put Fíli’s things down and sat down beside Kíli who was supporting his brother while Fíli held their injured scout. Ori’s admittance to being confused made Thorin snort. He was certain more than Ori had the same thoughts. He pulled the nearest waterskin, from Kíli’s pack it seemed, and handed it to Freye. On his words she drank it all. He would be happier when her skin wasn’t as pale.

He waited to send the Company back to bed until the bandaging was done. He sent his nephews to see to the ponies before they slept. When they returned, Thorin motioned for Fíli to take his bedroll so he wouldn’t sleep on the ground. Kíli would have to wash out the blood on his bedroll later. There was a stream nearby at least.

He perched near the Tooks and Master Baggins; Balin laid nearby as well, nearly an arm's reach from Brynye. He smiled slightly at the burglar. He was braver than Thorin had thought. Though he needed to pull his shirt down a bit, Thorin could see his back with how high the shirt rode up as he curled against his cousin.

Freye wasn’t sleeping. She watched him as he smoked his pipe. He glanced at her, then away to the treeline, and then back. He cleared his throat and said, “I had hoped you would not follow, mabannamûna. If you did, I had hoped you would join us outright. I worried for you.” He put his pipe down on his knee for a moment. “That argument you heard when I was in Bree. Part of it was because I wanted to invite you.” Looking back now, he shouldn’t have even entertained the thought. “You are a dwarf; you had the same right to accompany us as any other. Your grandmother did not want you to come; she said she had lost too much.”

“She may have lost much but she also realized that I would never be content to sit still.” Thorin took his time in surveying the woods around them before turning to look at her properly. Her hair was mussed, it would need a combing and braiding come morning. He saw, peeking out from under her shirt, his necklace; he wondered why it could not have protected her from this night. “I still feared revealing myself to the rest of the Company. I know Balin and Dwalin would have accepted me; they accepted Sigin’amad and Adad easily enough. I felt your nephews would accept me as well, hoped really. Sigin’amad still talks fondly of Princess Dís. They write to each other. The others though? I feared rejection.” Those eyes, they spoke of true fear. He knew how some dwarrows had addressed the Dwarfish Tooks before. He had joined Dwalin in sheering a few who had gone after Brynye and Frye after their arrival at his halls. This Company though, they were all good dwarrows who would never harm her on those grounds. “If I may, I will remain. I signed my contract, nu’adad.” His heart stuttered at the last word. She called him it freely and that was what counted to him. He watched her take the contract out and hold it out to him. Thorin looked at the signed document before handing it back.

“You are welcome to stay.” Just don’t do such a reckless thing again, I beg of you child. I’m not that much younger than Brynye, you will drive me to my death with your actions just as the boys do, he thought. “Your grandmother?”

“Wished to see Rivendell, something about a client wanting a particular style of necklace and a bad sketch.” Thorin grumbled a little at the mention of Rivendell. He glanced down at Brynye. The older dwarrowdam was fast asleep, one arm over her granddaughter’s waist to keep her firmly in her grasp.

“Did your grandmother ever look for her family in Ered Luin? Or any of the other villages? I know she traveled some. I never dared to ask; her lost family was a subject that often led to being hit with a frying pan,” Thorin confessed. He still remembered the first time Brynye had hit a dwarf for asking about her family, it was during a night at a tavern and the dwarf wouldn’t shut up about it. Thorin had made the mistake of asking the next day if there was anything he could do to help her track down her family and had been hit, not with a frying pan, but with a boot. There was still a small imperfection on the back of his head where the tip of the boot had dug into his skin.

“Probably because she never searched for them. She had no clue where to start, even with the hints Fothon had given her. There was a note left when she was found, one to tell the dwarrows or the Rangers where to find her. No one ever came.” A deep-set frown developed on Thorin’s face. “I have her family’s beads though.” It astonished him how freely she took off the necklace of beads and separated two and handed them over to him. Few dwarrows kept beads of necklaces, most dwarrows were buried with their beads. He knew Frye and Asta had several taken from their hair as proof of death and he also knew the dwarrows that had done it had made new beads that would tell the ancestors when they arrived who they were. He still had two of Frerin’s but he kept them in a locked box in Ered Luin. “Sigin’amad gave them to me before I left for the Shire. She hoped I might find the answers she never did.”

“These are family beads. Her mother and father’s?” Thorin guessed. Freye nodded. “One last attempt by her parents to give her hope then.” He inspected the design. The longer he stared at the two designs, the sharper a nagging voice in his head spoke. He vaguely recognized the one mark, he knew he did. During one of his grandfather’s more lucid moments after the fall of Erebor, shortly after he met Brynye actually, his grandfather had sat him down and told him about the sigil etched in this bead. For the life of him he couldn’t remember what he had said. It had been so long. It wasn’t anything bad either, he would have remembered that certainly, but it was something important. “These beads, the design comes from the clans of Khazad-dûm but not of Durin’s Folk entirely. Looks like a marriage between two clans. These marks?” He gestured to a small mark on the beads. “Longbeard and Broadbeam. The Longbeard bead is of a daughter’s line, one that claimed no father. Seems I should recognize these, something my grandfather once told me I think. We may find the answers in Erebor. As for the other bead, Bofur, Bifur, and Bombur are all of the Broadbeam Clan. They might be able to help.” Thorin gave her the beads back. Bifur in particular, despite his mild handicap from his axe, knew more about Broadbeams than anyone could have ever thought. His father had been the one to encourage that knowledge. He knew many of the families and would more than likely know of the marks or at least ones similar. He’d have to ask Bofur to talk to Bifur about it. He wasn’t the best at talking with Bifur, the other dwarf sometimes got frustrated with the king-in-exile over little things.

“That is more than I had before. Thank you.”

“Do not fear of no longer having a people, young one. Erebor will welcome you when we reclaim it, even if I have to make a new clan to satisfy the insufferable councils to come.” He would do it either way. Brynye and Freye would not remain clan-less, family-less. He would see to it that no other dwarf experienced the same. “You will do well there. Now, to sleep with you. I can see that tonic is beginning to work. Your eyes are drooping.”

She snorted before turning slightly to snuggle against her cousin. Thorin got up and put more logs in the fire. As much as the campsite still gave him the chills, he knew that moving out with a Company that was half dead to the world would only cause more problems. Besides, it was rare for more than one family of trolls to be in the same territory. They had a few days before another group of trolls could even possibly catch wind that the trio had been taken out. At least he hoped that would be the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mabannamûna-“she who continues to become more beautiful” (Dwarrow Scholar)  
> nu'adad=second-father/godfather (I made this up. I used Dwarrow Scholar but couldn't find an actual godfather in the dictionary. The two parts to make god+father just didn't sound right. I liked second-father better. Also, that's the role that godparents would have to fulfill relatives died, they would be the new parents, the second parents. If anyone has a better word, let me know.)


	3. Dwalin

If they got out of this mess, Dwalin was going to put the Princes through a grueling workout that they would never forget.

As it was, the fire slowly roasting him to death was of a greater concern. He was suddenly grateful that his beard was not as long as his brothers or else it might have caught on fire from a jumping flame. Above him on the spit, Ori shifted and whimpered as the heat went across his face again. Dwalin patted the lad’s feet.

“Stay strong Ori,” he called up.

“Yes, Mister Dwalin.” Beside them, Bifur cursed and turned his head putting his axe was further away from the flames. Dwalin couldn’t imagine what that could be doing to the dwarf.

He could hear Nori squirming and cursing from the other side of the spit. He could feel Nori’s foot slip under the others’ and strike him in the back. A few minutes of a rhythmic beat on his back reassured Dwalin that Nori was holding on. Nori tapped out that he saw Bilbo in the brush just before the hobbit emerged. While Dwalin appreciated the distraction, being face down over the flames was worse than being turned.

Dwalin should have cheered when the trolls turned to stone but all he could say was, “Get your foot out of my back.” Nori snorted but knew what Dwalin meant: we’re safe.

Bilbo had hastily kicked dirt onto the fire and Gandalf was quick to extinguish what he saw. He picked up a blade from someone’s clothes and cut Dwalin loose. He thanked Gandalf and took the knife to free the others at Thorin’s orders. Gandalf worked on the dwarrows on the spit, Nori’s deft hands ripping through rope with an ease that came from years of practice.

While Dwalin nearly went to help with Freye, it was getting crowded enough over there. He headed over to his brother instead and pulled him tight for a hug.

“Crafty little burglar we have,” Dwalin muttered. He checked his brother for injuries and smiled when he saw none.

“Dwalin, does Freye remind you of someone?” Balin asked.

“Remind me? She’s nearly a twin of Brynye and for good reason.” Dwalin reached to the ground and pulled his clothes to him. He dressed as he talked. “That’s her granddaughter. I remember her from my trip to Bree to deliver Frye and Asta’s beads.”

“You didn’t tell me?”

“For good reason. Thorin hired her as a scout,” Dwalin told him. “She’s been trailing us since we left Bag End.”

Balin grumbled at that and went to yell at their king.

A silent presence appeared at his side after the trolls’ campsite had cleared out. Dwalin reached over and pulled Nori tight to his chest, head resting on the messy tri-peaks his One preferred.

“Âzyung zu,” Dwalin whispered. Nori smiled and repeated it back before kissing Dwalin. “Come on, best get back to camp.”

“Thank you for calming Ori.”

“Anything for you, sanmizimê.”

Dwalin moved his bedroll a little closer to the Ri’s when they settled in for more rest, placing himself as close to Nori as was appropriate. One day he would announce their whatever they were. For now, sleeping nearby was well enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> âzyung zu - I love you  
> Sanmizimê- my most perfect jewel


	4. Balin

Trolls were an unexpected displeasure on their journey. Balin was glad to be free of his sack and redressed. His words with his brother, however, had left him with a particularly unsettled stomach.

Why hadn’t he realized it earlier in Bag End? He had met Belladonna Took just as Dwalin had. He had seen the portrait in the study but shook it off as familial resemblance to the other hobbit. As for Freye.

There was no excuse. He had just blatantly ignored the signs. He had hoped, prayed, that Brynye’s little girl was still safe in Bree.

The greater shock came when he came back to the camp. Never in all his years did he expect to see her outside Bree or the Shire again.

“Brynye Took.” The younger dwarf looked him up and down, eyes clearly looking for injuries, before beaming. She hurried into a hug and headbutted him firmly. She held his head to hers longer than appropriate between friends, but he didn’t care. When they separated, she greeted Dwalin similarly. “I should have recognized her back in the Shire,” Balin confessed.

Brynye’s hand on his shoulder was reassuring. She understood his frustration. It still didn’t make it all right in his mind.

Balin set up his bedroll not to far from Brynye and her charges. He stared at her greying hair and thought of what could have been. In another life, Freye could have been his grandchild. In another life, Balin could have wrapped his arms around Brynye as he desired.

The younger dwarf shifted on her roll, long after Thorin had finished talking with Freye and had turned in to sleep himself once Gandalf had taken over watch. Brynye held out a hand toward Balin, eyes open and searching. He reached out and took it.

“Don’t scare me like that again,” she said. “I lost Wystan. I can’t lose you.”

“Bry.”

“I mean it Balin. I can’t lose you. I’m not ready for that.”

Balin gave a small smile and moved his bedroll closer to hers. He put one arm over her waist and she let out a sigh of relief.

Dwalin was sure to wake them before the rest of the Company woke later in the day. It was nice that his brother did not tease him about it.


	5. Óin and Glóin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got tired of writing everyone alone. 
> 
> I also have a hard time believing that Glóin wouldn't have encountered the Took Dwarrows at least once so he became one of the traders Brynye works with frequently.

Of all of Glóin’s fears of this quest, death by troll had not been one of them. His biggest fears had been, and in order, dragon, roaming orcs, food shortages, irritating relatives, and the weather. Trolls hadn’t even crossed his mind. One of his greatest worries shortly after the quest had started had been the youthful members of the party: Ori, Kíli, and Fíli. Ori was a good lad, listened well enough, but was too inexperienced to be out on a quest like this. Kíli and Fíli had at least gone out on guard duties with caravans before (and hadn’t those been dandy; he had been on some of those as a merchant). The princes caused far too much trouble with their little pranks though. They were dragging the hobbit down with them. The hobbit never participated but he did end up the butt of most of the jokes. If Glóin hadn’t known that hobbits matured at thirty-three, learning that the lad was younger than his wee lad Gimli would have been a shock. As it was, the lad was middle aged by his race’s standards. He still had some mischief in him though and his word battle with the trolls proved that.

No, what worried Glóin the most tonight, or well this morning he supposed, was the unexpected addition to their Company. He knew the name Freye Took, contrary to the thoughts of the Company. He had traded with Brynye many times over the year, had taken refuge in her house during one particularly bad thunderstorm while Freye had been staying in Hobbiton, and had arranged the coal purchase during the Fell Winter that had saved the lives of Hobbits. He had been one of the dwarrows to brave the freezing blizzard to make the delivery as well and had met up with the Tooks on the eastern edge of the Shire and helped them get the coal to the distribution points with the help of the hobbits that were able (that hadn’t been many). He remembered the young twenty-nine-year-old dwarf-hobbit who pulled a sled of coal by herself while her mother pulled another. Her father didn’t have quite the same brute strength and had paired up with two of the hobbits to pull another sled.

So Glóin knew who Freye was about a minute after laying eyes on her. He held his tongue though. If she was hiding herself from the Company she had a good reason most likely. Likely her heritage, some dwarrows reacted harshly to such a heritage but Glóin had been on the last caravan her father and mother had been on. He had delivered their beads to Thorin. They were honorable folk. He would never doubt their daughter.

It was the pain she wore that worried him, and the way she leaned into the eldest prince for comfort. Glóin reckoned this was her first true injury. It was survivable with the correct treatment and a searing knife was a slapdash way to keep the problem from getting worse. He hoped his brother could fix her leg proper, else infection would surely set in and she could lose it or worse.

He didn’t want to see another Took Dwarf die.

  


Óin ran through the herbs he had in his pack in his mind. Brynye had used just enough to make the salves and the antiseptic but it was almost a sure bet that Freye would develop an infection within the next few days if they didn’t get to a proper shelter where he could spend more time tending to the wound and her clothes and the bandages could be thoroughly washed.

They weren’t far from Rivendell. With an injured dwarrowdam he might just be able to convince Thorin that the stopover in Rivendell was necessary. He would have to see how she was doing in the morning.

His thoughts turned to what he knew of hobbit healing methods. Brynye knew some but her purely dwarf heritage had put her at a disadvantage in implementing the almost elfish in nature medical practices. Where as dwarfish healers were more adapt at healing bones with a touch of the magic they could access through the same gifts that gave them their stone sense, flesh wounds were harder to mend in such a way. Elves and hobbits could do it.

If the injured party member was anyone but Freye, she could likely do it if she had been trained like Brynye in the hobbit ways. Trying to heal yourself was a recipe for disaster. He had almost asked how much energy she would need, if she could use someone else as a conduit, but there would still have been an additional toll from her and he wasn’t going to ask that of her. Instead, he would come up with another way.

He would ask Thorin about Rivendell, Óin decided. It would be for the best.


	6. Bombur, Bofur, and Bifur

The moment Dwalin had cut Bombur loose of his bag, the fat dwarf had forced himself up with a lot of huffing, and a little help from Glóin and Balin, and hurried to the spit where Nori was hanging off the side cutting dwarrows from the spit. Ori had already dropped down into Gandalf’s arms and Dori had been the second one down. Now, Dori waited for Bifur to drop down, and Bombur offered his arms to help catch his cousin. The dwarf swung down, one hand holding his rope, into the grasp of Dori and Bombur. Bombur helped him regain his feet and then held him close for a long moment. Bifur reassured him that he was all right before looking back up to where Nori was sliding along the spit to where Bofur was.

“Tip him this way,” Dori instructed his brother.

“No, I thought I’d leave him up here all day,” Nori shot back snarkily. He cut Bofur’s upper restraints and then the lowers. With Nori’s help, he rolled off toward Dori and Bombur. The pair caught him, and Dori let Bifur take over the load.

“Nothing over the spit for a while, ay Bom?” Bofur mused. He pulled his cousin in for a tight hug and then his brother. “I’m glad your both safe.”

Both of them couldn’t agree more.

Soon enough Bofur was helping with Freye and Bombur helped gather clothes and get them back to their owners. Bifur took up watch, his eyes trained on the edge of the clearing.

Freye Took had been a little mystery to the Ur family since Bag End. Freye had reacted as if she knew each sign he had used and never looked at him differently when he did something odd. Then there was the sword Bifur had stumbled upon when looking for the bathroom during dinner. He had opened a bedroom door instead of a bathroom door and seen a dwarf sword beside the entry. The sigil had been familiar to him. From the brief glance he had gotten (approaching footsteps startling him), he could have sworn it was the mark of an Ur.

Now Bifur’s mind may be a little rattled and he may have a taste for green things but that didn’t mean he lost the knowledge he had spent his life gaining. There was only one line of Urs that had some mystery to it.

In his father’s generation there had been three children, Fifur, Franur, and Lagur. These three lads had been born to Themur and Dres in odd circumstances. Fifur was seventy-four when Franur was born and 118 when Lagur had been born. The gap between them was almost unheard of and it was only luck that had Franur old enough to take care of Lagur when Themur and Dres had passed on. Fifur had died years earlier, he and his wife Isolde. The Rangers and two surviving dwarrows had brought everything back to Ered Luin, only some of their things had been missing. Most of the missing items were supplies. The only odd items that had gone missing were several of Isolde and Fifur’s beads and Fifur’s sword, the one that had been Themur’s before Fifur joined the trade caravans. There was also the matter of the missing child, a wee babe not even old enough to walk yet.

Bifur hadn’t told his thoughts to his cousins, though Bofur had mentioned that she reminded him a bit of a Broadbeam in the face. Bombur had said he would kill to learn to cook from her. Bifur thought that she might be kin.

When they made their way back to the camp, Bifur caught sight of the two ponies on the edge of camp. Attached to the saddle, with the guard showing, was Freye’s sword. He changed how he walked just enough to walk by it close enough to see the detail. It was the Ur family crest, his grandfather’s name carved into it.

He glanced over at Freye and Brynye. Hadn’t Brynye been the babe’s name? He’d have to ask Bofur.

That was a question for later. Today had been exciting enough. He swung by a patch of dandelions on his way to his bedroll feeling just a bit hungry. Bofur asked him if he was sure he didn’t want some bark shavings to go with that for crunch. Bombur hit his brother upside the back of the head while Bifur just munched on his snack. They were the ones missing out.

  


Bofur took time to look over at the Dwarfish Tooks and their hobbit while bedding down. He was not surprised to learn of Freye's dwarf heritage. The Urs had already talked about the mysterious cousin of their burglar several times. Bofur knew that Bifur had a theory about it that he wasn't sharing with the rest of them quite yet. That was fine with Bofur, he could wait.

The thing that bugged him was her words as the trolls held her, the resolve to die already there. He shook his head; the Company would have to help break her of that habit. Everyone was worth saving if there was a chance.

Later, he'd pull the family in to eat with his own. It would be better that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we get a glimpse of the history of Brynye's family. It's a complicated family tree. The Urs might not be the only ones she's related to....


	7. Nori, Ori, and Dori

When Gandalf put him down, Ori knew he was going to lose his dinner. So, like any logical dwarf, he hurried to the nearest bush and puked. His skin was too warm and his stomach was churning.

Gentle hands touched his back, rubbing in a circle. For once, Dori's overbearing motherly nature was welcome. The elder Ri handed his brother a small rag and the younger one wiped his lips. Dori pulled him in for a hug.

"Don't feel good Dori," he mumbled into his brother's shoulder.

"I don't doubt it," the greying dwarf replied. "Get your clothes and Nori's. He's helping with the dwarrowdam."

"Isn't that Mistress Freye?" Ori asked.

"Indeed it is. Now go along."

The eldest Ri turned toward where the group had converged to help with the injured. Nori used the infamous Ri strength to pin down the girl's legs and looked over at Dori as he did. Dori gave him a nod and went to help the others. They could talk later, reassure the health of each other later. They had time.

  


Nori swallowed the bile rising in the back of his throat. The smell of burnt flesh was not one he cared for even after being around enough thieves who had been branded for their failures in the Thieves Guild. He had never experienced that, luckily, but he had seen it done enough times to know a hot blade on skin was disgusting.

His few stolen moments with Dwalin were worth it. In truth, it took all Nori had in him not to jump Dwalin right there and reassure himself that the guard was truly whole. He wished they could have stayed like that longer but the others would need help and both of them needed to see to their families.

Ori was washing out his mouth when Nori walked over to their bedrolls. He pulled his little brother into his arms and held tight. The younger dwarf squeaked as Nori gave him a little of the Ri strength in the hug before he returned it.

"All right?" he asked the younger.

"Yeah. Mister Dwalin kept me calm."

"Good at doing that he is," Nori murmured. He ruffled his brother's hair and sent him to bed. Ori took the middle bedroll and Nori smiled.

Dori walked over with another waterskin and held it out to Nori. He took a few swigs before handing it back and watching Dori do the same. The elder dwarf then pulled him in for a headbutt and held his brother there for a long moment.

"I'm all right Dori."

"I can't lose you or Ori, you know that right?" The elder dwarf's shoulders were shaking a bit. "Mahal knows you drive me to tear out my beard, but you're still my little brother and I love you. You have to promise me, if something like this happens again, you'll grab Ori and run. I don't care what happens, you promise me you'll take Ori and run."

"Dori."

"You're both too young to die on this quest. You promise me."

"Aye, I promise." Nori held his brother tight and smiled a bit. "Come on, naddith needs his brothers."

The pair laid down on either side of their youngest brother. Ori made sure to pull them both close. Today had been a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is my belief that despite Nori's less than legal manner of living, Dori still loves his brother and would crush anyone that tries to harm him.


	8. Bilbo

The troll saw him. The troll **saw** him! His body screamed at him to run but he couldn't move. This was how it was going to end, killed by a troll. 

"Run Bilbo!" 

That was voice he knew all to well. He spun in place, catching a glimpse of a shine from a quiver in the trees. A stone to a pony's flank started the four ponies running. Bilbo hurried after them and took the bridles from Kíli. The dwarf told him to get to safety before taking off in the direction of the trolls. 

Bilbo, very much, did not want to run. However, he had the ponies in hand and had to do something with them. So he hurried them back to the others and secured them before hurrying back to the troll's campsite. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, but he was going to do something. 

He arrived in time to watch Fíli be thrown across the clearing and land next to Freye. He couldn't hear their exchange and concentrated on assessing the task at hand. 

"Dawn ain ' t far away. Let's get a move on. I don't fancy being turned to stone," one of the trolls said. 

Bilbo looked at the sky. They just needed a little time, that's all they needed. 

He could do that, he could play for time. If there was one thing that Bilbo Baggins was good at, it was weaving a tale. So weave he did until Gandalf cracked the stone in half and the trolls became stone themselves. 

His cousin became his biggest priority quickly. It had always been, since they were children, Freye looking out for him and this time he would have to look out after her, even if all he could do was hold her hand as she screamed. 

The arrival of his elder cousin Brynye was a surprise as well but he was grateful for the sight of her. Brynye was a wonderful healer and she worked seamlessly alongside Óin. 

He was pleasantly surprised to notice that none of the dwarrows reacted adversely to the additions to the Company. If anything, he suspected a few of them were relieved. Thorin looked like he could finally sleep. Bilbo surmised that their leader likely knew about Freye and Brynye; Thorin probably expected her to follow. 

He curled up against Freye's side, his arm around her waist. 

"Why did you come?" he asked. 

"Couldn't let my cousin go off without family," Freye replied. She put a hand in his hair as she leaned against the pack shoved under her back. "Had to see to it you'd come home." 

"I'm sorry for what I said to distract the trolls." She gave his hair a particularly rough fluff. 

"It's okay Cousin. I forgive you." 

Bilbo didn't forgive himself. He would find a way to make it up to her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that bit at the end. I thought about having Freye think it over and give a little inner monologue about it. It wouldn't come out and I didn't know where to put that thought. Hopefully I post the next chunk of stories soon. I think there are a fewer side stories to hash out for the next bit.


End file.
